My attention, where

does it go, what do I want --


to see of the world?

Visitors give me,

as a sick person, knowledge --


of human nature.

Start with self.
The others can wait.

Thoughts are just passing clouds for which to meditate.
Observe the world as the observer, not the taker or receiver.

Judges are for benches. Do not sit alone.
   Stand and walk into the songs of birds.
   Free within your self called home.

The bear and the birds
The deer and the bees
I’m sitting in the woods.

The tender twigs
The daisy flowers
I’m gonna climb up on that mountain

Walk-in through the prairie
The ground hogs and mice
Are watching and scurrying all around

Oh what a stranger would give
To be sittin in the woods
With me this day.

I’m sitting in the woods

It will not have been a long time
that my parents sent someone with me
when I went to see the trains
after school and at the weekend

Far too often, they thought, but
I liked to be there, on the bridge
at the station, especially in this town
you could see old models pass

I know them blind, by their sound
the vibration of the viaduct
their smell if it doesn't blow too much
and the Doppler effect

It is mainly freight transport
yet the town is connected
to the big world
and still there are children

on their toes
to look over the wall
and I never saw a daredevil
scrambling on top of it

Most individuals aim for speculative wealth,
these linear channels are paralleled in others
when taught to gain a greater sense of self.
If we continue to grow grouped as a collective,
are the surroundings around you yours alone.
Priorities are often lost in the process of reformation claimed through phased stages and good fortune is drawn in multiple forms.
Step aside for an instant to question contempt and observe at your own mixed objectives,
foreseen in the dreams of who you want to be.
Not visions of anarchy or set enforced orders but a better balance of autonomy in between.

A young disciple of discipline is just,
trying to dissipate negative traits.
Hesitations of change are often in frame
but most balloons don't fly straight.
Instead there's the choice of multiple fates,
played upon through invisible games.
Who is listening, we're nowhere near finished yet, when the drifter remains in stages to claim.

Draw upon those who have taught you before, are these new lessons or echoes restored in repetition.
Persistent tricks formed from stubborn habits, hidden in-kind to the back of our brains, where a complete disregard is often retained.
Try observing yourself through the eyes of others, are you sure we're the same when shuffling states.